Unofficial Points in Time GWL
by Moon Witch '96
Summary: In the GWL universe. Just a collection of unofficial drabbles of points in time with different characters. May actually connect to Girl Who Lived, or maybe just a way to express some ideas or plot points that will never be. Please read and review.
1. George Weasley and The Cowardice of Him

**George Weasley and the Cowardice of Him**

He could do this. He could ask Harriet Lilly Potter to the Yule ball. He was in Gryffndor, he was a Weasley, and for Merlin's sake he was two years older than her. He was suppose to be mature, suave and not acting like a five year old with a bloody crush!

"Georgiee, are you sure? I mean she's in high demand! I've already seen ten or twenty guys ask her!" asked Fred his twin, somewhere to his right.

George Weasley nodded, not even moving his eyes form their current position. She looked so pretty, just standing there across the courtyard, talking to Hermione and little ickle Ronniekins. She looked up at both of them, so small and delicate... Well, maybe not so delicate, that girl had beaten a Horn-tail without a scratch, after all... But she looked so pretty. Her wild raven hair was silky and glossy, and it fell to her waist, though no one could tell because she always had it in that high pony tale. He only knew because of her stay at the Burrow, were she had been so adorable to wake up... Her skin was so very pale, but it had a healthy glow to it. Her little hands moved back and forth, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, causally slapping Ron in the arm, and twisting this way and that as she talked. While she walked her steps were purposeful and graceful, and her gray skirt swished back and forth, showing off her lithe and oddly long legs, clad in black tights. Her face...Well her face was just like a porcelain doll, all fine and delicate features. Her plump lips were the softest of pinks, and her eyes. Oh, her eyes were everything he could wish for. The were large, almost too large for her face, they were shaped in a curious almond shape, and they were surrounded by long thick lashes. But the color, that was what really made them stick out. They were an impossible shade of emerald, bright and dazzling with her emotions, and they always held the look. The look that she had so many secrets, that she was so much more than what met the eye.

"Well, George stop drooling now you bloody idiot, she's coming this way!" hissed Fred.

And she did, along with her mates she stopped, and looked toward the two boys with a bright smile on her face.

"Hi George, Hi Fred!" she said in a pleasant voice.

George nearly melted, he loved her voice, it was soft and yer it drew your attention, and it had such a powerful undertone to it. He couldn't even speak, could only smile silly and blush as she looked at him.

"Hi Harri." responded Fred, rolling his eyes at his twin.

"OI! No hi for me?" whined Ron.

George couldn't help it.

"Only for the pretty ones. Hi Harri." He said with surprising ease.

"What about me, am I chopped liver or something?" snorted Hermione, rolling her eyes at the lot of them.

"Not at all, love. Hi, 'Mione." responded Fred with a grin, wrapping his arm around the bushy haired witch.

Hermione slapped his arm away, and eyed George. She had a feeling he was trying to make his move on Harri. She had seen how obviously smitten the red head had been, always helping Harriet out, or maybe giving her some sort of present, like those Gryffndor sheets the other day. She had the faint feeling that George would be a better boyfriend than Cedric Diggory, and he was single. She hated that she wasn't helping as much as she could with Harriet's crush on Cedric, but she felt George would be better in long run. Though, she mused silently, Cedric had been looking at her petite friend more and more than his own girlfriend, Cho Chang. But obviously George was the best choice for Harriet, even if she didn't know that. Yet.

"Hi 'Mione." George said softly, eyes still on Harri.

Fred Weasley rolled his eyes at his twin, thanking whatever powers to be he wasn't a fumbling idiot when it came to girls. True, his brother had been the same as him until their fifth year. That was the year he noticed Harriet. They both had been sneaking around the castle, chuckling at the recently Dungbomb filled office of one bat like teacher, when said teacher came swopping around the corner; Muttering about some dunderheads that had hell to pay. Fred had been lucky, he had been able to slip into a suit of armor.

But George had been out there for the world to see, until out of nowhere he disappeared. He remembered a faint whisper of 'Harri'. Then silence. They had waited until the teacher had left, and George and Harriet came to view, a huge grin on their lips. Harriet had had a large piece of old parchment in one hand, and her wand in the other, George had been looking at her in awe, holding her cloak. 'Saw you on the map... Came to help.' she had said with a grin, and a wink. It had been then and there that George had noticed the younger witch, going all googly eye over her. If one day he wasn't describing her perfectness to Fred, he was talking to her, fumbling over his words and trying to be smooth, or he would make crazy and harebrained schemes to make her fall in love with him. None had worked obviously.

"So, Harri... Can I have a word? _**Alone**_?" George was horrified how his voice cracked at alone.

Harriet tilted her head to the side, and raised an eyebrow.

"Sure George." she responded with a smile.

_Don't screw it up, Don't screw it up, Don't screw it up. _Screamed a Fred like voice in his head as he walked away from the others, Harri right beside him. They reached a spare bench in the courtyard, and say down. He turned to her and found his voice stuck in his throat as he saw her beautiful face again. How in the bloody hell was he going to do this? Should he just say it out loud, or should he just chat her up first? What was he- George stopped mid panic attack as he suddenly saw the lovestruck look on Harriet's face. It wasn't directed, unfortunately, at him, and when he turned to see who it was directed at, he felt something in the center of his stomach twist and growl.

Cedric Diggory. _That stupid, pretty-boy pounce. _It was so bloody obvious how much Harriet liked him, George wasn't blind. He had been watching Harriet for over a year, and he knew at least enough about her to read her. He could see it in her gorgeous eyes how much she liked Diggory. He could see that she was hurt that he had asked Cho, and rejected her, and he could see that she would do anything in her power just to show Diggory what he was missing. And it made him want to take a dive off the Astronomy Tower. Instead, he just nudged Harriet out of her love induced stupor, and whispered in her ear:

"Go to the ball with me Harri, as friends, and make Diggory as jealous as you can, so you can show him that picking Cho was a bad idea." in a soft voice, smiling a smug smile when he caught Diggory shooting him a look.

It was a look that a guy with a girlfriend should not be directing towards a boy asking another girl out with. It was a look of suppressed jealousy. And George just barely stopped himself from sticking out his tongue at him when he felt something dive bomb him from the side. He gave a little grunt when he hit the cobble stoned floor, as he had been shoved clear off the bench and glanced down in surprise to see a beaming Harriet in his lap. He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat as she hugged him around his neck. George flushed as she jumped up and down, whispering a constant thank you in his ear, registering just how close she was to him. Her body was flush against his, and he could feel her, well, he could feel things he had fantasied about pressed against his chest, and he felt just how small and delicate she was when he returned the hug. He could also smell her soft fragrance, and it took all his will power not to bury his face into her hair just so he could smell that freesia scent from its source. Instead, he just laughed it off, stood up and then helped the still beaming Harriet up.

He noted that Diggory's hands were clenched in fists, and that he was scowling in their direction. He didn't care. All he cared about was the fact that he really was a coward. He, instead of asking Harriet properly to the Yule Ball, had asked her to come with him to get another guy jealous. And part of him wanted desperately to fetch a time turner and ask Harriet again. But since he knew he didn't have one, he instead just plastered a fake an cheery smile on his face, miserable, walking along with Harriet as he changed the subject to something completely different than the Yule Ball. Part of him wondered, as he walked along with the petite witch, if she could ever see how really desperately and utterly in love he was with her.


	2. Snape's Visit

**Snape's Visit**

Severus Snape stood inside number four, of Privet drive, fuming; he of all people had to come and pick up the brat. He looked into the smallest bedroom, and knew who it belong to with just a glance. It looked nothing like the rest of the dull house, not like the gaudy living room, the spotless and blindingly white kitchen, nor the horrid hot pink room next door. It looked like the only vaguely interesting room, and he could see the girl had decorated it with care. As if even the short time she spent here had to be made bearable, or maybe, he mused she simply had been bored.

He stared at the girl's bedroom with a disgust. It couldn't be anyone else but her's; the blasted Gryffndor colors lined the walls in different forms, from banners to what looked like red and gold sheets that lined the wall. The girl hadn't even bothered to paint it, she had just draped large sheets of cloth across the walls, making it appear as if they were in a tent of some kind. They sheets looked horrible familiar, like she had stolen the sheets from Gryffndor tower. Or maybe George Weasley had done it, he always did moronic things like that for her. The furniture was shabby, worn, and mismatched. The bed frame was of dark chipped wood, the mattress was a lumpy looking thing, covered in a single pillow, the thinnest blanket, and a red surprisingly plush looking cover. Maybe that horsed faced and bitter Petunia didn't hate her as much as he had guessed. A large mirror hung on the light wooded closet, and he could see pictures pasted every where on it, and also on the closet itself. He remembered how the girl since 3rd year had carried around a camera, slung across her neck; snapping at everything in sight. The only reason that had stuck in his memory was because Lily had done the same, only since her first year.

He couldn't help but hate her. Not Lily, no, never Lily; but Potter's brat. She had to be so much like her, and yet so much like _**him**_. She had her mother's genes that much he could see he wasn't blind; she looked almost as she had at her age, if a little on the scrawny side and as much as he hated to admit it and would only do it under the influence of the strongest Veritaserum, she was the smallest bit her mother's daughter. She wasn't anything close to the cruel boy that had tortured him during his school days, but some of the things she did poses from him came out to sharply for him to ignore.

Physically, she had her father's wild thatch hair of black hair, not her mother's beloved scarlet strands. It was longer as of late, and had grown passed her shoulders that it had been when he first saw her, now reaching just slightly pass her waist. She also wore glasses just like Potter, hiding the emerald eyes that Lily had given to her. Though the glasses weren't the horned rimmed ones Potter had worn, but a simple rectangle shape; no longer the rounded monstrosity she had worn in her first year. In reality that was it, she hadn't gained much appearance wise from her father, a fact that he loathed and loved at the same time. It was like seeing Lily alive and well again, but only a carnival mirror version of her: distorted and wrong.

She also carried her heart on her sleeve, just like he had. Granted Lily had been the same, but she had been calmer less loud and brash about it; unless you had sparked her temper, he mused with fondness. Naturally, being the spawn of Potter she had a disregard for the rules. As if no rule, or law could hold back any of those damn Potters. She was always in trouble, mostly to his delight in his classroom, he could almost hear Potter in the afterlife, cursing at him for making his 'darling' little girl scrub the caldrons till midnight, not being able to do a thing. A petty revenge, he knew, but a revenge all the same. He couldn't forget her arrogance as well, always looking at him with Lily's eyes, with Potter's look. The look that had mildly terrified him in childhood, and infuriated him now in his adulthood. How dare that brat look at him with those eyes! Those emerald eyes that had made him so happy in youth, and now haunted him. The eyes that held a sparkle of mischief that _**he**_ only had.

The potions master tore himself from those thoughts, and again looked at the room around him. He noticed that the only other piece of furniture in the room was a simple desk; spell books stacked high on the edge, quills and pens in a jar, papers and parchment scattered all over. The thing that really caught his attention was in the very center of the desk. It looked to be a large photo album, opened, and left for the world to see. On one side, it was the girl's Hogwarts acceptance letter, list and all, and a small heading where he recognize her small and dainty scrip; "What Gave Me Hope"

He blinked, shoving his lank, greasy hair out of the way, and reading over and over again the small letters that looked hauntingly familiar. His breath was in deep gasps, and his heart beat with a ferocity that had hadn't occurred since that faithful night he had learned of Lily's fate. He knew those words. He knew them. Had he not heard them all those years ago? He and Lily had been speaking about the letters that came to them all those years ago. He found himself flung into his memories:

"_It's what gave me hope..." came the soft whisper, out of nowhere really._

_Severus blinked, eyes tearing away from the two pairs of pale feet that stood dancing on just the surface of the water._

"_What?" he asked, a little confused. _

_He looked at the red head that was truly his best friend, only true friend in the whole school. He could only see her profile, and he started at it with faint longing. He loved everything about her, from the scarlet strands of long hair, to the plump lips that adored her pale, heart shaped face. He loved her small pert nose, and how it twitched sometimes when she was mad. He loved her elegant and small frame, one that made him strive to protect her. But out of everything, he loved the most her eyes, those almond shaped and fierce emerald eyes. Eyes that made boys forget their own name, including him, with just a glance. _

"_It's what gave me hope, my Hogwarts letter..." she said looking to the distance at the castle._

_He raised an eyebrow at her, and waited until she turned her face toward him. Her doll like face was set in a soft smile, eyes warm and full of happiness._

"_When I got mine, I was hopeful. I didn't know what I was doing the whole time Sev, didn't know that when I made myself fly, I was doing magic. Didn't know that I wasn't a 'freak' as Tuney loves to say. I didn't know. I only knew the look in my parents eyes. Proud, and amazed, always amazed. But terrified. They always held a hint of fear in them. They didn't know what was happening either, and I knew it was hard on them. When the letter came, by an owl of all things, I was so hopeful. Granted they didn't believe it at first, but I knew that it was the answer I was waiting for. And I remembered the little boy that had called me a witch not to long ago, and I knew that I wasn't alone. Hope is what was in me when I got that letter, and I was so happy." her voice was a whisper at first, but grew stronger as she told him everything._

_He smiled at her, something rare and few between, he knew, and only meant for her. _

"_That's pretty damn poetic of you Lils." he responded with a faint hint of teasing._

"_Oh shut up Sev, it's true." she said shoving him, almost making him fall into the lake bellow._

"_OI! Trying to drown me now, Evans?" he asked as he struggled to regain his balance._

_He looked into her eyes and caught a hint of mischief, and felt horror as she smiled evilly. She pushed, and he felt a shock of cold._

"_Now, I am Snape." she said with a smirk on her face, looking down at her water logged friend._

"_EVANS!" he screamed as he lunged for her, grabbing on to her arm and pulling down._

_She had let out a shriek, spluttering the water from her mouth, eyes disbelieving._

"_SEVERUS SNAPE!" she had screamed furiously. _

"_Why, yes Lils?" he had barely been able to slip in between his roaring laughter._

"_Prat." she said smacking at his chest._

"_You pushed first, I wanted to make it even!"_

"_Prat." she repeated, eyes full of humor._

_They climbed out of the lake, and sat on again on the dock, wrapping their cloaks to try and keep warm. Lily rested her head on his shoulder, and he had wrapped an arm around her waist. They weren't always the most touchy feely with each other, but some moments they showed their affection with a simple embrace, or a kiss to the cheek. It was strictly platonic for now, but Severus planned to change that. _

"_Promise me something Sev" she had said, eyes far away._

_He had looked down at her, looking at her face; memorizing the face that would never cease to haunt him in the future._

"_What Lils?"_

"_Friends forever?" she had asked a little timidly. _

"_Always." he had replied simply._

He had lost her the next day. A slip of the tongue that ruined his life. He could never forget that moment in the lake, the real last moment Lily Evans was his friend. And truth be told, the only friend that had truly known him, when he wasn't the bitter man he was now. He snorted, wiping away the ruddy tears that streamed down his cheeks. He hadn't cried in a long time, the last time he had let tears escape his eyes was the night of Halloween. The day he had truly lost Lily, the day he had truly became the man he was now.

"Damn Potter brat..." he rasped, voice not the usual velvet quality, but hoarse and broken.

He glanced again at the girl's script stunned that one of the people he resented could be so like the one he loved the most. Her room, he reflected was something Lily would have loved, the colors and the simpleness just screamed Lily, and yet it didn't. He wasn't daft, no matter how much he tried to convince himself he knew she was neither Potter or Lily. She wasn't her father, and she wasn't her mother. And it filled him with such loathing that she couldn't be. He glanced around again, and gave out a weak sneer. She should be picked up by someone else, the Order didn't need him to do this. He didn't even know why he had come, and he regretted doing so, it left him feeling so weak. The girl even had the audacity to not even be there, making his trip nothing but a waste of time. And a soul wrenching one.

"Why Lily?" he whispered, disgusted by how weak it sounded.

He left with a swish of his long black cloak, disappearing with a sharp popping sound. Though he never saw it, the stunned face of Harriet Potter stood frozen in the door way; a shimmering sliver cloak slipping past her now visible shoulders, landing at her feet. Her eyes held nothing but shock, and her already pale face was stark white. She was stunned, why had Snape of all people said her mother's name? She had only picked through the lock on her door a while ago, off to go buy a snack at a corner store, preventing the Dursleys' from knowing that she had stolen from the now counted food downstairs. She wore her cloak as a precaution, what if her relatives had come back and saw her sneaking downstairs? They would have put even stronger locks on her door. She had come back, to only find her dark and bat like professor standing in her room, with obvious disgust on his face. For the oddest reason, she had not reveled her self, to stunned really to even move.

She had watched, with even more shock to see tears run down his sallow cheeks. His coal eyes hazed with tears and memories that she could never see. She had never seen any emotion on the man's face, other than anger and sneering triumph. To see such heart-quenching sorrow and pain on his face was the strangest thing. She had felt a little peeved when he had cursed at her, but had only faintly noticed it. She had also felt the need to look away, knowing that this was something she was never meant to see. But she couldn't, and she only had watched as he whispered her mother's name, her middle name, and disappear with a swish of his long black cloak. And she knew one thing for certain. He knew her mother; and she wanted to know, like him, why.


	3. Lily's Lament

**Lily's Lament**

"Still think Elevendork would have been a great name. Maybe the next child?" whispered a soft and husky voice in her ear.

Lily Evans, or really, Potter turned toward her gaze to her grinning husband, away from the most precious thing that she had ever come across. She took in his wild mop of black hair, the steady golden hue of his skin, the features that were sculpted sharply, and the red glasses that where perched on his long nose. Also the hazel eyes, oh the eyes that shinned brown, with hundreds of specks of gold thrown into the mix. She loved his eyes, she could look into them endlessly. But at the moment she was too peeved to do so.

"No, James. I'm not naming any child of mine Elevendork, no matter how much you want to!" she hissed out with a frown.

James pouted, and placed his large hands on her stomach, feeling for the second time in his life contentment at the slight bump that he felt there.

"Oh, Lily-flower, you choose such a boring name! I mean Harriet? Who names a child Harriet?" he said with exasperation.

"It was my mother's name, and it's beautiful." said Lily, cooing slightly at the bundle in her arms.

They both looked at the bundle in her arms with so much love and adoration. The love was oozing out of them in a single glance. True bliss shinned on their beautiful faces as they looked at the bundle of blankets in Lily's arms. A small face poked out of the red blankets, a pale clear face with not a single speck of dirt. Large almond shaped eyes, colored the most beautiful emerald looked back at them. Both Sirius and Remus had placed bets to what color the eyes would turn when the baby had been born. Remus had won, betting that the then blue eyes would transform into their now emerald color. Sirius, the dogfather had not been pleased at the lost of ten gallons, but he seemed to have liked the color after all, in the end there wasn't a moment were he wasn't cooing over the toddler's eyes. The eyes seemed almost to large for the baby's face, but it seemed to work. The rosy cheeks were plump and healthy, and a wild thatch of black curls framed her face.

She cooed at them, her small hand reaching out from the blankets to latch onto her mother's long hair, as she had a habit of doing. Her other small hand reached out and touched her mother's ivory face. When she gave another cooed, they both melted a little at the pure happiness that was coming off of their infant daughter's form. When she squealed a 'Ma' and a 'Da' at them, the all but squealed themselves, snuggling her body close to the both of them.

"She's going to be the smartest witch of her age she will, just like her mother." sighed James as he played with her raven hair, so similar to his own.

"What if she's like you? What if she's a wiz at Quidditch?" asked an amused Lily, emerald eyes bright as she gave her husband a sly glance.

"NO! My little Harri will never play that sport! Too dangerous for this darling girl! She'll be a smart girl, she'll be a healer, and she'll be the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts! Like her mother..." James whispered the last part, kissing his wife on the cheek.

Lily only rolled her eyes, snorting at her husband's antics. She hopped her daughter would be a Quidditch player, just to scare her father to death.

"Now... Little Elevendork in here? He's going to be the best!" said James, patting her stomach fondly.

"No, James!"

Her husband simply laughed, before getting up, setting Lily to lie delicately onto the couch. She admired the view of his tone back side as he walked away in that slightly strutting manner of his, blissful. She turned her attention back to her daughter, and couldn't help but smile. Her smile froze on her face when she heard her husband screaming at her to run. And run she did.

Lily Potter ran to the upstairs nursery as fast as her legs could take her, part of her screaming at her for being so stupid to leave her wand in her bedroom. Another part of her was sobbing because she knew that James's wand was right next to her own, and she had seen that tell tale flash of emerald light when she had started for the stairs. But at the moment that didn't matter, all that mattered was to keep her little Harri safe. When she barricaded the door, she knew that it wouldn't be enough and simply put her daughter in her crib, tears running down her face. The door came down with an sickening thud, and Lily turned to face the monster.

It seemed like an endless moment as he told her to stand aside, and when she refused, he simply raised that pale wand of his. Part of Lily was happy. She was going to see her James again, but most of her was sobbing at the fact that her little girl would probably never live to see another day, and that she had only a year to live. But as the emerald light rushed at her, all Lily could do was place a hand on her stomach, feeling the slight and miniscule bump their, and lament that they were to young to die.


	4. Sirius' Reality

**Sirius' Reality**

Sirius Orion Black the III curled up in the corner of his cell, and wrapped his thin and ragged blanket around his gaunt frame, in a vain chance to ward of the cold of his guards. He looked out of the thin and bared window in front of him and saw nothing but fog outside. Endless gray, stretched out until the end of his vision. How he wished for one sunny day, where the sky was a cloudless blue, where the warm sun shinned down on his face with heat that he missed, and that Lily and James would be laughing next to him.

All, he knew, to be nothing but impossible. Ten years had passed and nothing had changed. He still longed for the sun, and he stilled longed for the two people he had lost those ten years ago. But despite what most thought in his Hogwarts days, he wasn't stupid. They were never coming back, and he would never see their faces again. His only real happiness with their death was simple, his goddaughter was alive. With a crunch of soft steps, his head whipped around to see one of the few human guards, dropping something with a dull thump just inside his cell. Looked like the paper was here, he mused.

He sped to the bars of his cell, and winced at the closer pull of the dementers. He picked up his paper and rushed back to his corner, sighing in relief at the lesser pull of the damn things. He looked down at the paper and gave out a weak, if barely there smile. November 10th, that would mean that the new Hogwarts' first years would be in the last page. November 10th was always his favorite issue, he loved to look at the new Hogwarts students, to imagine their future, to remember the time when he was one of them. He silently thanked the guard that always dropped his paper to him, and he faintly remembered that he had saved the man from a couple of Slytherins in his fifth year. He supposed the man thought this was payback. He turned his attention back to the paper, and flipped through it, pausing at the Nimbus two-thousand ad, and grinned at the thought of James' face, if he could only see the sleek and wicked broom. He felt the little happiness drain away, but he ignored it, and maybe flipped the nearest dementer the bird, just because he could. It wasn't as if the stupid thing could really see, it could only see souls that they liked to munch on so much.

He turned back to the paper, reading how as always, the ministry was screwing things up. He faintly wondered why they though Fudge would be a good minster, he remembered the man when he had tried to kill the rat, and he had been a fumbling idiot at the time. He shrugged to himself, muttering about stupid voters and turned to the last page of the Prophet; where what he really wanted to see was there. His eyes scanned the faces of the new Hogwartians, taking in the small forms that contested of the future of the wizarding world. And his breathing stopped. His eyes dashed to the bottom of the page, and caught the list of names. He could never mistake that name.

Harriet Lily Potter, stated the simple and easily read print. His eyes hungrily snapped to her face again, and he couldn't help but let a happy sigh. His goddaughter, bold as brass stood in the front row; smiling up at him. It seemed like only yesterday that he had held her in his arms... Had seen her look so tiny and breakable in his once strong arms.

She was, he thought with a frown, easily the smallest one there. Everybody else towered over her with ease, and she was also the skinniest one there. The only one closest to her height was a small brown, bushy haired girl next to her, whose rather large front teeth eclipsed the true cuteness of the girl. His eyes caught how both girls were angled slightly to each other, and that between the smile, they would face each other and whisper or both would turn around and wave to a gangly tall red head boy in the back.

He was beaming with pride as he saw the gold and scarlet colors that were added to all three of the children's uniform. He knew every Potter had to be a Gryffndor, and it seemed as if his goddaughter was no different. Her face, he realized was everything he remembered it to be. True, the once scarless face was marred by a small lightning shape, just above her left eye brow. Huge rounded glasses now perched on her nose, and her once haloed wild curls reached her shoulders. And her face was a little scrawny for his taste. But everything else seemed the same. Her eyes, were the same almost to large for her face, almond shaped and emerald just like her mother's had been. Her face, he noticed was all Lily as well, the young girl held a haunting resemblance to her mother, she had the same heart shaped face, the same pink and plump lips, and of course the eyes that never ceased to haunt anyone who looked at them... All and all the girl looked just like her mother, just like the little girl that had insulted him on the train, all those years ago.

Granted, he mused, there was some sharp differences. One, was the wild Potter hair, two was the size of her eyes, he never recalled Lily's eyes to be that large. Three, was the glasses on her small pert nose, and finally it was her size. He had noticed before with great displeasure, that she was too tiny, and skinny. Lily had been small as well if he recalled right, but Harriet looked even smaller. In fact she looked almost to young to be in her Hogwarts uniform. And he knew faintly who was responsible for _**that**_.

He would have never let that happen, he would have fed her, spoiled her and loved her. He still loved her, still felt the deepest concern for her, and he would have done anything in his power to help her... But he was in this cell, and he could do nothing. He wished to escape, to run off and go to his goddaughter, to comfort her, to spoil her. But he couldn't, she like everyone else must believe that he sold out Lily and James. She would hate him, just like the rest of the world, for betraying her parents.

And it killed him inside that he might as well have, if he hadn't trusted the rat they would be alive, and he would have a better feed Harriet smiling up at him, and he knew that she would have screamed 'Uncle Padfoot!" at him every time he entered the now destroyed Potter manor. Her 'Uncle Moony' would have been a set thing to, and her parents would be with her, to kiss away the sadness and to hug away any fear. He could see it all in his head, he could see everything so clearly. The vision of something that could never be, of something he longed for with all his heart. And it killed him inside, because that beloved vision in his head was destroyed by the harsh reality, his reality.


	5. Cedric's Heart

**Cedric's Heart**

Cedric Diggory's breath came in harsh gasps as he struggled through the foliage, desperately trying to find the thing that would bring him eternal glory, and maybe just maybe the affection of a certain, petite, emerald eyed witch. That witch was Harriet Lily Potter, and he knew that somewhere else in the deep, dark and miserable maze the fourteen year-old girl was struggling to find the triwizard cup, just like him. It was hard to admit at first that he liked the little fourth year Gryffndor, because until recently he had though himself madly in love with his long term, now _**ex**_-girlfriend, Cho Chang. But, really, he though as he dodged out of the way of the Devil's snare that almost caught him by throat, it had taken him completely by surprise when he had started to feel that way about the younger girl.

The way they had meet had been pleasant enough, they had bounded over their love of Quidditch at the Quidditch world cup, and he had found himself laughing at the younger girl's odd humor. He had been at awe at first that he was talking to the Girl Who Lived out of anything, but that had quickly faded as he saw how down to earth the petite girl was. By the end of the summer, he had himself hopping that he had made a good friend in the girl.

At Hogwarts, he talked to her every chance he got, even if it had been just a simple hello. They had gotten along great, though he had been a little weary of the wrath of George Weasley, who likes Harriet he though with a scowl as he lifted his wand to perform the shielding charm against the tower of flame that came out of the arse of the blast ended skwert, which thankfully saved his own arse.

It had all been good until the announced the whole champions thing. They had gotten along great, and they were talking as if they had know each other all their lives... Then he had to screw it up by not believing her. He could see now that she had never wanted to be in this damn thing, but at the time he though she had done it on purpose. That changed the second she said what the first task was going to be. It had taken him completely by surprise, that despite the fact that he had ignored her and not believed her, she had told him something that saved his life during the first task.

So everything had been great again. She had helped him, and they where on good terms again. He guessed it was really when the time of the Yule ball had come around that he had started to see her that way. She had asked him. He had said no, and she had been crushed. He could remember the look of hurt on her face as she walked away, and he how he had felt the deepest remorse. And then George Weasley had taken her. _**George Weasley.**_ The not talented, the not tall, the not even remotely good at school, the freakn' class clown, who had a crush on her, had taken her to the ball. It pissed him off even now, just thinking about it. He forever had in his memory the way he had given him those smug little looks that night at the Ball... In fact the Ball itself was permanently seared into his memory.

He had stared a little opened mouth when Cho came down to the great hall, covered in a sliver robe that had shimmered with her her every movement, and he had been glued to her like a second skin. He had also loved how her hair had been twisted in an elegant bun. But when Harriet came down... Well, all thoughts of Cho had flown out the window for him really.

Her dress robes had been scarlet, and she wore her house's color beautifully. While Cho's robes had clung to her body like a second skin, Harriet's had fit like it was made for her. The bodice had been a corset, littered with small golden beads, and the long flowing train made her look as if she was a princess. Again that had been littered with golden beads, all around the bottom, he had caught a glimpse of her heals, small dainty shoes that looked as if they where made of golden glass.

Her hair, always in a disarray, up and out of the way, had been let down. He remembered thinking that he should steal all her hair ties then and there. Because what he though to be the most perfect hairstyle for her was that all her hair was down, flowing freely past her waist I in an elegant wave. Her face had looked so beautiful, simple makeup; her eyes were surrounded with just enough mascara and eyeliner to make her green eyes shine brighter than usual, a simple pink gloss graced her lips, and gold dusted the top of her eyelids. She looked divine, like a goddess of Gryffndor. And he was ready to join whatever cult followed that goddess. He also knew that he would be the most devoted follower.

And then George Weasley had walked up to her with the most happiest, most lovestruck look in the whole damn world. And it had made his blood boil under his skin. He was pleased to remember that he had snuck in a dance with her, and remember the second she had run off to go help her friend, that he was hooked. Hook. Line. And sinker. His heart had gone with Harriet that day, and he knew even now that the girl held it in her impossibly small hands. He wondered briefly if Harriet had any idea that she did. For his sake he thought as he ran even deeper into the maze, that she would have it in her not to crush it between those small and nimble fingers of her's.


	6. We Could Have Been Friends You Know?

**We Could Have Been Friends You Know?**

Harriet Lily Potter tired to stifle the very loud sobs that came from her throat, but she knew it was useless. Once she started to _**really**_ cry she couldn't stop until there were no more tears, experience had told her that much. She had just escaped her dormitory just a few minutes ago, taking advantage that Sirius had been called away by Dumbledore for some reason or the other, and that Hermione had been fast asleep. The only living thing that had knew she had left the dormitory at all was Crookshanks, and that was only because she had tripped over a can of his favorite food. She had ignored the reproachful look in his glowing orange eyes when she had slipped on her invisibility cloak, and left the room without another slip up. She had wandered for a bit around the castle, restless, and still seeing the long arms of dancing and white hot flames that had spewed from the mouth of the enormous dragons, and she had finally broken down in this corridor when she remembered that she was going to have to face one of those things.

So here she was, in this dark, cold, and damp corridor sobbing her little heart out not even caring at the fact that her cloak had slipped off of her, and that anyone could see her if they bothered to come down this usually unused corridor. She just didn't given a damn, and she kept sobbing, emerald eyes staring out lifelessly in front of her, before she buried her face into her knees. She cried harder than she really should have, and maybe a little too loudly, because somewhere down the corridor someone heard, and was coming rather quickly and in much haste to find the source of the sobs.

**~()~**

Draco Lucius Malfoy liked taking walks at night. It was calming. Relaxing. He could forget every annoyance, every damning frustration by just taking a stroll in the shadows of the slumbering Castle of Hogwarts. He was free of any punishment because of his Uncle Sev or as he was suppose to call him Professor Snape... Well, his_** godfather**_ in other words had helped him. He like himself, was frequent in taking midnight jaunts around the old castle, and knew the castle practically by heart. He had told him the best places to take a stroll in, in other words the placed where no other teacher patrolled. He had never been caught, at least, he had never been caught other than that one disastrous time in his first year, which he thought shouldn't really count, as he hadn't been walking for a little stroll... It had been because of an illegal dragon and a little Gryffndor...

Draco broke from his somewhat reminiscent musings when something caught the attention of his ears. It was a such an sudden sound, but continuous one, and he knew that somewhere further along in this corridor was were the source was located at. The sound... Was a sob. A loud retching sob that was utterly sad and miserable to hear. Without another thought Draco raced forward, partly curious and partly worried. He was hoping that whoever was crying wasn't hurt, because if so he was going to have a panic attack, as he wasn't really good in situations with blood of any kind. He didn't know why, but since childhood the stuff had really always unsettled him. In fact, violence, with the singular exception of Quidditch related violence, always set him on edge, and he was one who avoided it at all cost...

He was in luck, the person sobbing wasn't hurt. At least, from what he could see. But the person that was sobbing disturbed him. He had never seen her cry. In fact, he had never seen her so much as shed a tear. Yet, there she was, shoulders shaking, head on her knees under a moonlight filled window bawling like a little girl. He had never felt so awkward in his life. Harriet Potter, _**the**_ Harriet Potter, the Girl Who _**Bloody**_ Lived was crying, and he of all people had come across her. _Shit_.

Draco had no other choice. He turned around quickly suppressing a yelp, and started to leave. He wanted to stay. He really did, but he wasn't one to comfort her. Why would he be? She, as far as he knew, could barely tolerate his presence... And it _**should **_have been mutual. It was then in his painful musings that he heard her give another small sob, this time a sob that was so close to the wail of an infant that he couldn't stand it. He turned right back around, stepped in front of her, and placed a hand on her shoulder. He couldn't help but notice as she flinched that her shoulders were impossibly small, and that the one that was under his hand could be mostly held inside of it.

When she looked up, Draco sucked in a gasp. _Shit._ It should be illegal to look like that when you cried whispered something huskily in his mind. He agreed wholeheartedly with that whisper. Even after sobbing her brains out Potter was beautiful. Sure, her gorgeous eyes were swollen and rather red, and tear tracks ran down her splotchy cheeks... But well, something about the way her face was built made even that look somewhat appealing. _Shit_. When he cried he looked like a bloody inferi. But... Well, the fact of the matter was he didn't have to tell her that he thought she looked presentable. More than presentable... He was going to lie like his father had taught him...

"_Accio_, handkerchief. You look a mess Potter." he muttered as he caught the handkerchief, handing it to her and stuffing away his wand in his pocket.

"You would too Malfoy if you just saw the dragons." she snapped to him without much heat, using his silk handkerchief to whip her large eyes and blow her small nose.

It took a minute for Draco to register the word dragons of all things, and another minute to understand just why the hell dragons connected to her. When he did he felt his gray eyes widen a very large fraction.

"Bloody hell, that's what they got for you?" he whispered out to her, fist clenching.

He could see it now, this willowy girl standing right in front of this huge monstrosity of a beast, who could swallow her petite form in a heartbeat. He had the misfortune of having visited a dragon reserve in his youth, and he knew exactly how truly dangerous they could be... And the fact that she had to face them...

"Yeah... I won't even last ten minutes..." moaned out Potter, shoulders slumping down in defeat.

"I don't know Potter, you pretty freakn' wicked when it comes to these things..." he found himself saying after a moment.

Maybe it wasn't so bad to be a good liar, thought Draco when she looked up, emerald eyes sparklingly with amusement. He doubted she could take down a dragon, but with her skills she had a fraction of a chance... It was then when he noticed that she wasn't wearing her glasses. He swallowed. Again, it should illegal to look like that after one had cried.

"Is that a compliment Malfoy? For shame..." she said with a quirk of her plump lips.

Draco hadn't noticed, but he had sat down right next to her on the cobblestone floor, and was able to nudge her shoulder properly because of it.

"Oh, shut up... I was just making an observation..." he snapped at her, feeling a flush on his cheeks.

"Right..."

"I was!" he said with as much dignity as he could manage.

"Whatever you say Malfoy..." she said, rolling her eyes.

They laughed together. For the oddest reason, they both laughed themselves into stitches. It took a long moment until they could calm down, but Draco found himself not minding at all.

"You know Potter, your actually not half bad..." he muttered to her still somewhat chuckling.

"I say the same for you Malfoy, when your not insulting my friends." she responded somewhat dryly, giving him a firm look.

Draco suppressed a flinch, and a guilty look before he returned her firm look. And he drawled back:

"Touche."

It surprised him when she snorted, and rolled her pretty eyes again.

"Extremely."

He frowned, and just a gave a little sigh, head resting back.

"I don't say or do the things I do because I want to. I do them because of my name... I don't even like my name, Potter." he said, surprising himself by telling the truth.

"Then change it. You're not a bad person from what I can see, your just a prat sometimes." she said just as truthfully.

Draco flushed at her words. And gave he turned to give her a steady look.

"I know... But it's not that easy... Though, I guess you'll straighten me out each time I misbehave." he responded back, giving a chuckle at the last words.

"Always." She said with a cheeky smile, butting her small shoulder into his.

They were silent for a while, before Draco couldn't stand it.

"So, how 'bout that Quidditch Cup?" he asked, then flinched at the slightly stupid question, the aftermath of the Cup was not a happy memory for either of them, he was sure.

He was suppressing a frown as he remembered his father and mother, faces flushed and voices slurred as they donned their sliver masks and black cloaks. He kept repressing that same frown harder as he remembered the look on her face as she ran inside the forest, clutching the hand of Granger. Her eyes had been wild with fright and he had noticed that both her wand and her glasses had been missing. He was glad that he had the sense to stay in the shadows that night and not reveal himself that night to brag, he knew know that if he had, she wouldn't be talking to him at the moment.

"Best thing I've ever seen in my life." she whispered out, taking her red glasses out of her robe pocket and placing them on her small nose delicately.

He grinned at her beaming face, and was glad she was focusing on the Cup, instead of the aftermath.

"It's a amazing thing isn't it, to see that much of a high level?"he said with a giddiness that surprised himself.

When she frowned he tensed, and prayed to Merlin that he hadn't done something stupid.

"... How many professional games have you seen Malfoy?" she asked him shrewdly.

He relaxed at her question, and then felt himself flushing. _Shit_. She was about to discover a Malfoy family secret.

"Er... My father has connections in the Games department... We go to any game in the United Kingdom... Sometimes if he's up to it we'll go to one on the continent... We're both really Quidditch mad." he said honestly, his hand coming to the back of his neck to rub in nervousness.

When she just looked at him with a frown on her face, he felt that maybe he had said to much...

"Rich Prat." was all she said, rolling her eyes.

"Hey! You're wealthy too Potter, in fact Potters are supposed to be richer than Malfoys!" he said with a whine, giving her another little nudge on her shoulder.

She blinked at him, eyes winding.

"Really?" she asked him in a shocked whisper.

He frowned, she should know this.

"You didn't know that?"

"What part of raised by muggles did you not understand?" she drawled back to him, eyebrow elegantly arched.

He took in her words with a growing curiosity. So she really didn't know? Strange... How... Strange...

"...How is that like? Being raised by muggles?" he somehow found himself asking.

She blinked at him, before grimacing.

"Horrible... Not all of them are bad, mind you, but well, my aunt and uncle have the same sentiments toward witches as Voldimort has toward muggles..."

She shrugged, flushing prettily. He on the other hand, flinched at her words.

"Merlin, that's pretty horrible." he said with shock in his voice.

Because she wasn't lying. He could read it on her face, because, well, the girl wore her heart on her sleeve and it was so easy to see when she was lying...Imagine that, the Girl Who Lived, living a bad life. The savior of their world, and she was treated badly...

"Tell me about it..." she said, looking grimly amused.

Silence took them again. It was a tense awkward silence, and she was brooding, like he'd seen her do so many times before. He also remembered that her friends would always drag her out of her brooding. So, with the grace of a wingless butterfly, he tried to do the same thing.

"Why are you such a damn good flier?" he blubbered out, because it was the only thing he could think of.

She gave him a bewildered glance, both brows raised.

"Thanks?Um, that's completely random you know?" she said dryly.

He shook off her dryness, and gave her a steady look. He sighed out:

"Trying to talk to you Potter." in a voice filled with a lot of 'patience'.

She stayed silent for a moment before responding back:

"I see... I don't know why, it's just flying... Flying is as easy as breathing to me... And it's something that just let's you be free, and I'm... I just really want to be free..."

"Free?" Draco had to ask.

"Yes. Free to just be normal. Free so I don't have to almost die every year of my life... Just... To be free..." she sighed out, head leaning back to look out fogged window.

"Poetic aren't you Potter?" he said after another moment of silence, raising a brow.

She smiled ruefully not looking at him. Silence fell on them once again. Surprisingly, it was Potter that broke it.

"If only a little... Hey how you get Accio down so easily, I can't do that!" she said with a pout.

That he did not find adorable. Not at all.

"Now who's being random?" he drawled out to her.

She gave him a nudge of her shoulder.

"Just answer the question you prat." she snapped without any heat.

Draco gave a small snort, before starting in a superior voice:

"It's pretty easy, you just have to the will to command it to you..."

She gave him a blank look.

"Er..."

"What, Perfect Potter isn't getting it for once?" he said with only a little glee.

She gave a shrug and a small frown.

"You could say its something similar to that like that..."

"Ha!" he snorted.

He finally had _**something**_ over her.

"Prat." she said tiredly, leaning on his shoulder.

At least she didn't notice she had so much over him he thought with a roll of his eyes as a flush came to his cheeks. He knew that flush to be a brilliant scarlet. He leaned his head against her's and was utterly surprised to find how utterly comfortable it was. And that she didn't move away... When he caught a whiff of her shampoo, he had to use all of the will power that had been drilled into him as a young child not to nuzzle his nose into her raven hair. Instead he just tilted his nose just ever so slightly, steadied his breaths, and made them longer. He was a proud Slytherin after all.

"The Pratest." he said, grateful that he didn't stutter at her closeness.

He was really glad she didn't notice that he was sniffing her hair.

"Okay, that's not a word." she said, and he could practically hear her frown.

"Your an evil little grammar nazi aren't you?" he mumbled down at her.

She gave a small snort. He would bet his trust vault that she was also rolling her eyes.

"You know it Malfoy." she mumbled back.

This time the silence that settled down around them was completely and utterly not awkward, and they both let it sink in for a few minutes. He wondered what would happen if anyone caught them now? Not really wanting to deal with the headache that type of disaster that would cause, he broke the silence.

"Have any idea what your going to do for the dragons?" he asked quietly, knowing it was better for her to talk about it to _**someone**_.

He didn't need to even say it himself that he wanted to be that someone.

"And here comes some pratness." she said with a sigh.

Draco gave a slight grin.

"That's not a word." he sing-sang to her.

She gave a small giggle, and it took all his willpower not to puff out his chest in pride.

"I know that Malfoy." she said with what sounded like a smile in her voice.

He stayed silent, afraid, that if he talked he would give something away.

"You know, you just gave me an idea, so yeah, I think I know what I am going to do." she said after a moment, and he just knew that her eyes would be sparklingly if he took a look.

"What?" he asked, genially curious.

She didn't answer him right away, and he thought for a moment that she had fallen asleep, until she whispered out:

"... Teach me how to perform Accio and I'll tell you..." in a rather pleased sounding voice.

Draco felt the utmost confusion enter him. But nonetheless, despite his Slytherin instincts screaming to him no, he agreed, shouting out:

"Deal!" in an excited whisper.

"YES!" she shouted out in a whisper too, he could practically see her smiling in triumph.

When she finished her little celebration, he deiced to satisfy his curiosity.

"Well?" he asked, raising an eyebrow even though she could see it.

She said nothing, at least not right away before she smugly whispered out:

"...I'll tell you after I've done the task..." in a soft and laughing voice.

Bewilderment floored him.

"WHAT!"he exclaimed, gray eyes wide.

Again, he could practically see her smiling a smug little grin.

"Hey, I didn't tell you _**when**_ I would tell you." she said in a sly little voice.

Despite himself, he couldn't help but give a whistle of appreciation. Sly little...

"...That was actually... Kinda of Slytherin of you Potter..." he admitted to her in a grudging tone, yet he was smiling as he said it.

She was silent for a moment before she whispered out:

"Well, that _**was**_ what the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in." in a matter fact tone.

Astonishment filled him.

"What the bloody hell?" he asked with wide eyes.

She shifted a little, and he knew immediately that she was a little unsettled.

"I asked it to put me in Gryffndor." she said, and he felt her give a somewhat sheepish shrug.

Draco could not say a word for a long time. He knew what that meant. She really didn't, being raised by muggles preventing her from knowing... He remembered his own sorting. It had been quick. And utterly brutal. All the hat had said when it was placed on his head was: '_Typical._..', before it had shouted out the word that sealed his fate. It hadn't even given him a choice. As if he didn't need it. As if the path of darkness was the only option he had. And, not unusually he felt a little envy raise up in him at the fact the _**she**_ had had a choice. But... It was her, after all...

"I... I've never heard of that happening..." he said finally, tearing away from his thoughts.

"I'm special." she said in a bitter whisper.

He moved, and without a thought he hugged her. Draco Malfoy willingly gave someone a hug. And not just anyone. Not even someone related to him. Hell, not even someone in his own house. He hugged a Gryffndor. He hugged a _**halfblood**_ Gryffndor. He hugged Harriet Potter, the Girl Who Lived. And he didn't care. He didn't care that this would cause his father to disown him and make him a blood-traitor. He just didn't care. All he cared about is that she only stiffened slightly in his embrace, and laid her head on his chest. He laid his chin on her head, and was glad for the excuse to smell her hair.

"Yes... Yes you are..." he whispered out with as much truth as he could.

They stayed in complete silence before they both, thankfully at the same time untangled from each other. Only for her to lay her head on his shoulder, and he turn lay his head on hers. Potter broke the silence:

"Malfoy, I say that we are being so disgustingly nice to each other at the moment that our friends would kill us." she said in a cheery and tired voice.

"Agreed."he said dryly.

Another brief silence past before she spoke:

"I actually don't give a flying fuck though." in a complete mater of fact tone.

Draco couldn't help but chuckle.

"Again, agreed... And Merlin, I didn't know you had such a mouth Potter."

He felt her shrug.

"I hang around with Ron and The Weasley Twins, what do you expect?" she asked in a dry tone.

He wanted to hit himself. So bloody obvious...

"...Noted..."

"Don't worry, you'll learn in time to love it." she said in a happy yawn, shrugging again.

He laughed at her tone, and gave out a yawn himself.

"Maybe... So, why did you ask not to go into Slytherin?" he asked with actual curiosity.

"Gryffndor Propaganda?" she responded back with a shrug.

He furrowed his brows.

"What?"he asked.

"Before the Sorting I had only talked to Remus Lupin, Hermione Grange, Neville Longbottom and the Weasleys seriously about the houses. You only told me once, and you were a pit of a bossy prat about it." she said in a matter of fact tone.

Draco blinked. _Shit_. So it was his fault.

"Ah..." he said, a fist clenching with his frustration.

She snorted, and nudged him a little with her head.

"Ah indeed." she said in a light tone.

The sat in silence once again, that was only broken by their soft breathing and the yawns that came out of both of them.

"We could have been friends you know?" whispered out Draco, regret in both his voice and mind.

He didn't know it, but Harriet gave a small and rueful smile.

"We could have been, back then." she said just as softly as himself.

He sighed.

"That a little sad, that we aren't friends because of some idiotic prejudice made by other people..." he mumbled out in a slightly annoyed tone.

She gave a small and tired giggle.

"Getting a little philosophical on me Malfoy?" she asked with another giggle.

"You bet your skinny little arse I am Potter." he drawled back to her, chuckling.

She just giggled again.

"My, my, Malfoy, I didn't know you looked at my arse so much." she said in a playful tone.

Draco flushed, and wanted to find a ditch to go die in it, because that was exactly what he found his eyes doing at times. Though most of the time it wasn't just restricted to her arse.

"...I don't!" he lied, fumbling for composure.

She gave a snort.

"Right."

"Tart." he muttered to her.

"Prat."she muttered back.

They lapsed back into silence. A comfortable one. It pained him that he had to break it.

"You know tomorrow we're just going to be cruel and vindictive to each other." he said after a moment.

"I know."she whispered softly.

"We can't be friends Potter, as much as I'd like too. We both have an appearance to keep up."

He knew that he wanted more than friendship, he honest to Merlin did, but he also knew that was all she would ever give him.

"I know."

He paused, pained.

"I'm sorry we're on the opposite side." he said as truthfully as he could.

"I am too." she whispered it with just as much truth.

"...Still on for those accio lessons?"

"You know it Ferret boy." she responded in a very smug tone.

He frowned.

"That's just low Potter."

She gave out a tired laugh.

"Just practicing."

He laughed as well.

"Whatever you say Slytherin Princess." he said with a smug grin.

He could feel the displeased energy vibrating off of her. He knew the nickname that she had gain in second year was a sort of a sore spot for her, but well, she had used the ferret incident.

"Prat."

"The Pratest."he said in a fond tone.

"Mal-... Draco. Can we be friends, please, just the two of us?" she asked after a moment, shocking him.

He didn't respond for a second. He should've say no. He should've say no like a good little pureblood and look the other way. He didn't want to be a good little pureblood.

"Just us... Harriet."

Somehow, he knew she was smiling.

**~()~**

It was the beginnings of sunrise when he found them. He was tired, he was irritated, and he wasn't in the mood to dawdle. But he did so anyway, completely and utterly surprised at the sight before him. She was leaning against him, practically in his lap, her raven hair in messy disarray. Her willowy frame was completely shrouded in what looked to be his house robe, and he noted that her red glasses were perched on the lip of the window behind them. The foggy window itself was illuminating the two slumbering fourteen years olds in a soft orange hue, and their pale skin looked rather remarkable in that light. His godson was leaning against her as well, and he noted with a swift blink that his arms where around her, firm, yet gentle as if he was afraid to break the delicate looking girl. His face was peaceful, and he noted with a raised brow that his nose was snuggled firmly into her hair, and that he was inhaling deeply.

Draco, for the first time that Severus Snape had ever seen him in his fourteen years of life, looked relaxed. Not just the tense sort of relaxation that occurred in the Slytherin common room, or even the one that he had in his own home. But a true relaxation of being with someone you trusted. He lifted his brows in slight surprise. He knew that Draco didn't hate the girl, but he hadn't known that he liked her to such a degree. It pained him to admit it, as he stalked ever so slowly closer, that he knew the girl enough that all she sought in Draco was friendship, and nothing more. It was a shame, because Severus knew that the two of them together could change the tide of the loyalty in the Slytherin house.

Though, he mused as he gave a swift cushioning charm behind Draco, walking away with a snide smirk on his lips, if Draco managed to man up and break away from his father's influence, it was a great possibility that little Miss. Gryffndor may just give him a chance. As much as he disliked the brat, he knew that if Draco had emerald eyed babies he would be very content indeed.

**AN: I do not own Harry Potter, its ideas, or characters, it's a very cruel thing to taunt me like that you know. **

**Hhehehe, you know, I actually was writing the outline for my _official_ Girl Who Lived story when I came up with this. I was writing out the fourth year chapter list, when I made this one. I actually like it, though I'm not really a fan of anything Draco, stupid Ferrety git, but well, he has great potential in the GWL Universe, and well, waste not, want not. I think I will make this actual official fannon in my fic, because well, it was just so damn fun to write! And Snape too. Dungeon Bat. Heheheh.**

**Anyway, I like to say that yes, I will some day get to this point in my fic, though I have to say, it's a long time coming folks... I am like the fourth chapter, of first year. And this chapter is like in the one hundreds. AND Yes, I have a total of 140 something chapters planned so far for official Girl Who Lived. And I just barely finished her fourth year planning wise. Oh what fun, am I right? If it makes anyone happy, they are not drabbles either. They're like chapter books. I'm probably going to take years to write it. Though, I really do want to do it. Good writing practice, plus it helps with my petty stress of a high schooler. (- I am aware that is not a word, don't go all Harriet on me folks)**

**Fun Fact: It is a very high possibility that Draco and Harriet will not get together in my fic, but it is also surprisingly high for them to get together, because they make sense in a twisted way. But I still don't like Draco. **

**Fun Fact 2: If you can tell, all the previous chapters of this was written a long time ago, when I just starting the idea of writing my own Girl Who Lived fic.**

**Fun Fact 3: I only changed the gender of one other person in my official fic, though had I planned for more, before I scrapped that idea.**

**Fun Fact 4: I just checked... I have officially 141 chapters planned for Girl Who Lived.(Year One: 27, Year Two: 30, Year Three: 33, Year Four, 50. Year Five-Seven: ?) **

**Fun Fact 5: Harriet Lily Potter is short, and will only grow to be about 5 feet. Poor girl. **

**-Peace,**

**Moon Witch**


	7. Jealousy

**Jealousy**

She was on her stomach, hair splayed around her in a messy displayed, held up by a few spare quills. Her ankles were in the air and crossed, she was chewing absently on her quill, and she looked over at the 'notebook' thingy before shaking her head and looking back to the long roll of parchment. From what he heard from Ron, the essay only had to be two feet long. The one she was writing delicately out, with her tiny and neat script was a boarding on four feet. Most didn't know it, but Harriet Lily Potter was a distinctive overachiever. And, as she scribbled out even more, he couldn't help but notice that she was speaking to Moony, who was sprawled on the couch in a way that he hadn't done in years, since their Hogwarts. It was causal and relaxed and something that seemed so unlikely to find him in. A large, dusty tome was in his lap.

It was timed perfectly it seemed, he would say something, and then she would be quiet, not answer for what seemed like an hour before she did finally answer, thoughtfully and then made some other form of conversation. Then he would do the same. They were much more a like than she and him, and not for the first time, wondered what would have happen if he had been her godfather instead of him.

They got along fine he suppose, and she did look to him with a fond sparkle to her lovely eyes, and the feeling that he was paternal would rise up at him with such a look, and that made him smile like the loon he was each time she came around. But she always sent Remus the same look, but much more fonder then he would like. She sent him more letters than he could count... But Moony always got more. She laughed at all his jokes and hugged him each time she could, as awkwardly as she could only hug. But she always managed to laugh harder at Remus, and say with a bluntness when his jokes were rubbish. She always held onto Remus one way or another, hugging him longer, even more frequently than him.

He was suppose to be her godfather. Her father was gone and it seemed that he was suppose to be their in hid stead, but, one Remus John Lupin had beat him to it. As he stared at the two people in his makeshift family, Sirius Orion Black III couldn't help but feel a monster of jealousy clawing at the pit of his stomach... But, at the same time, he felt a steady hum of pleasure enter him. His family looked content, and no matter how many green monsters entered and plagued him, in the end, that was what mattered.


	8. Echoing Braveness

**Echoing Braveness**

"Mommy... How was he like? The man that protected you?" asked a soft voice from the crock of her neck.

Harriet Lily Potter, thirty seven, felt her breathe hitch. She frowned, and soothed away the red locks from her daughter's pale face, looking into the blue eyes that looked so much like her father's. Freckles across her nose were prominent, and she smiled slightly at her daughter's eager face. She always knew that this question would come, and despite her husband's protest, she would always answer what she felt. So she did:

"Brave."she said to her, enjoying the way her daughter looked shocked.

"More than you?" asked her daughter, rather slyly in her opinion.

Her daughter's face was doubtful, her nose scrunched up, and her brows raised high. Harriet laughed.

"Yes."

Her smallest child frowned, her month pinching slightly. Her brows were furrowed, and she looked at her mother's face with shrewdness in her narrowed, almond shaped eyes.

"Was he really?" she said it almost furiously, and Harriet felt her heart warm at the fact that her daughter felt so much for her.

"He was the bravest man I ever knew." she responded honestly.

"Do you really believe that?" she asked, again, still doubting her mother's faith in the man.

Harriet smiled at her tone, and gathered her daughter up in her arms tighter.

"Always."

* * *

**AN: All rights go to J.K. Rowling, and the respected publishers.**

**... I know I should be working on the actual GWL, but this little thought wouldn't get out of my head... So there you go =/.**


	9. Guest Writer ForbiddenKHfan216

**Guest Writer: ForbiddenKHfan216**

He dropped his hand down to the mutt's ears, waiting cautiously to see if he would bite him. The big black hound just looked up at him curiously for a moment before nudging George's fingers lazily, like it wasn't even worth the effort of getting up. The Weasley twin sighed in relief before scratching the dog's ears.

Sirius Black, notorious murderer of thirteen Muggles and illegal Animagus, wagged his tail hard as he enjoyed his headscratch.

The dog-like behavior of the wizard was all that George really needed to remember that Sirius, under the current alias of 'Snuffles', was in fact innocent. He wasn't a killer, only a grown wizard that had been framed wrongly for murders he hadn't committed. In fact, it was highly unlikely that he would murder anyone.

"So... _Snuffles_..." George began in a quiet voice, keeping a cautious eye on the other Gryffindors in the Common Room with them. None of them were looking over at him but he wanted to keep the conversation a complete secret... especially from his brothers. Sirius opened a brown eye sleepily and nodded once, a clear sign that he was listening. "I wanted to talk to you about something... A girl, to be more specific." He added as an afterthought.

The dog immediately perked up, opening both eyes to show that George had his complete attention. His fluffy tail began to wag that much harder, despite the fact that the Weasley boy had already stopped scratching his ears. If he hadn't been so nervous about speaking to the man, George might have laughed. Who would have guessed that Sirius Black was actually an insatiable gossip?

"Well..." George said in a slightly more confident voice, having found his courage. "It's about _Harriet_, actually-!" The moment that his goddaughter's name had left the redhead's mouth, the dog's teeth were already at the boy's throat and George found himself tumbling to the ground, his chair knocked over from Sirius' and his combined weight.

A vicious growl accompanied the hard smack to the back of his head and all he heard in the dizzying rush that was a concussion was the shouts of the other Gryffindors.

"Harriet's dog went nuts!"

"Hey! Someone call Harriet!"

"Someone grab Snuffles! Before McGonagall kills that mutt!"

The dog grabbed the collar of George's robe with his teeth, ripping it to shreds even as the twin struggled to get the forty pound dog off of him. Unsurprisingly, 'Snuffles' shoved his muzzle straight into the boy's jugular, effectively making the sixth year student freeze and start praying that the wizard didn't suddenly start living up to his fierce, merciless reputation.

With a dismissing snort that chilled George straight to the bone, Sirius Black dropped his collar and turned away from him. Even from his sprawled position on the floor, he could see the dog trot nonchalantly up the stairs to the girls' dormitory, presumably to check up on his goddaughter and probably to warn her against mankind in general. If he didn't tell her to cast the nastiest curse she could think of at him for his insolence against the House of Black's only family member. George groaned and clutched at his aching head, closing his eyes even as everyone in the Common Room rushed to his side, shouting their sympathies and their promises to get revenge on Snuffles as soon as possible.

But George could only really think of one thing, from the Animagus' treatment and now sheer disdain of him. So that's what it would mean to date one Harriet Lily Potter. He had a lot of work cut out for him.


	10. As The Seventh Month Dies

**As The Seventh Month Dies**

"Moony, I have to say you seem more on edge than usual."said Sirius Black, watching his werewolf friend pace the floor in front of him.

He was lounging comfortably on the loveseat in Godric's Hollow, in the Potter Manor, not a care in the world. Said Moony, one Remus Lupin simply flipped his best friend the bird, staring at the door in front of him with his ears twitching. He could hear every word, even with the mildly warded door, and he winced slightly in sympathy as he heard his friend James whisper reassuring things to his howling wife. She was screaming something along the lines of it being James' fault, and that as soon as the baby was born she would make sure he could never have another child. He winced again, and turned to the lounging man with a vengeance.

"How the bloody hell can you remain so calm!?"he hissed to his friend.

Sirius shrugged.

"How can you be so nervous? It's just little Prongsie being born."said Sirius, inspecting his nails.

Remus could only stare at his friend in disbelief. He shook his head, and resumed his pacing, not caring anymore that his aristocratic friend could be this way about his godson being born. He instead tired to focus on the steps he was taking in the parlor. He froze when he heard the screams inside the room reach a higher note. With a few more moments, he heard a great thud, and a startled laughter from inside the room. The words, "It's a girl." floated out of the Healer's, and Remus felt his breathe escape him in a large breathe. His legs felt weak, but he felt light as air. A girl! A girl!

James stumbled out of the room, his bespectacled face was lite with a joy and sort of bewilderment. Sirius stood in a great, fumbling movement as James stumbled to them. He babbled for moment, words stuttered and hardly being able to get a word out before he simply ran back into the room. Both him, and Sirius raced after James. The image of Lily holding a soft, bundle of blankets, looking exhausted, tears in her lovely emerald eyes. Her hair was plastered to her face, she looked a bloody mess, but the glowing smile on her face as she coed at the bundle in her arms, Remus felt that she looked the most beautiful he had ever seen her.

"Harriet Lily Potter... Meet your godfather..."said Lily, tears leaking from her eyes as she laughed and kissed her daughter's head.

Sirius stared, wide silvery eyes looking dumbstruck. Without another word, the calm ever collected, suave Sirius Orion Black III kneeled over in a dead faint, a small sound of happiness escaping him when his offered goddaughter neared his face. Remus, James and Lily could only laugh as they watched the prone man on the floor. The small, quiet face with the large clear blue eyes, shaped just like her mother's staring on peacefully at her family, a happy gurgle escaping her mouth just as she fell asleep.


End file.
